It's not my hangover, it's a lot of pain

It's not my hangover, it's a lot of pain.
That morning, very early, when everyone came out to the kitchen, they were surprised by what they saw. John was asleep on the table, almost hugging a bottle and covering a small glass with his hands. His horrified father-in-law looked at his daughter and said in a scolding tone, “Look how your husband woke up!” The rest of the family appeared, all commenting in low voices. But behind that image was a tragic truth.

The empty bottle on the oak table was not his; it belonged to Leonel, his 14-year-old son. Last night, John noticed his son acting strangely, went to his room, and found him hidden under the bed. The first light of dawn filtering through the bathroom window told him that he had spent the whole night helping his son cope with a heavy hangover. The cold of the night was the only thing that seemed real about the situation.

The weight crushing him against the wood is not alcohol, but suffocating helplessness. It is the weight of conversations that end in screams of broken promises like glass on the floor, of the paralyzing sound every time the phone rings late at night. He remembers the child who asked him for bedtime stories, whose scraped knees he healed with kisses. He wonders: At what point was that child lulled to sleep to be replaced by this stranger with glassy eyes and trembling hands?

John fell asleep at the table, staring at the small glass, knowing that every sip was a blow to his own soul. He had tried everything: talking, punishment, pleading, but addiction is an invisible wall. He was on the wrong side, watching it take his son away sip by sip. For months he had kept quiet, not wanting to alarm his wife and the rest of the family.

The bottle wasn't his, nor was the hangover. When it comes to alcohol, appearances are always deceiving. Sometimes those who drink for joy are actually very sad deep down. It is a consuming sadness, a silent wound that bleeds inward, far from sight. We live in a world where all we see is a man slumped over the table and many people passing judgment without asking if the bottle was his.